


Memories

by apostate (394percentdone)



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Flashbacks, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 09:35:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20444975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/394percentdone/pseuds/apostate
Summary: What if the Farm finds Sidestep again





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> just a bit of an au that hit me like lightning at approximately 3am this morning.

In hindsight, Fennel should have known this wouldn’t last. It was just a dream, a fantasy. Faer name, body, freedom - it never belonged to Fennel. It was a mistake to think otherwise. How could fae have ever thought fae would truly be free? To think Fennel didn’t have to look over faer shoulder each moment of each day? Foolish. 

And Fennel had been so close. 

Filtered air rushes into faer lungs in a shaky inhale, not again. Debris lines the street in handfuls of discarded rubble, a child’s attempt to play monster, and smoke hangs between the buildings like a curtain framing the edges of the stage. Scattered props for heroes linger in Fennel’s, JUMP’s vision, all of them watching in the stunned silence they all find themselves in. If only last time they’d waited like this. 

Blue skin, orange tattoos. Five of them in standard formation and the smoke can’t hide the unnaturalness of their grace, their abilities. And two more. A broken doll standing in the middle of the street, head bowed, the blood of too many dripping from clean, bone white fingers. Behind them is the one who’s voice has never left Fennel. A clean white coat reaching to their calves, all black day clothes beneath, a smile sharper than the scalpels they used to slice into Fennel’s skin. 

“Runaway girl, did you think they made you real?”

They put a hand on the doll’s shoulders and she looks up. Dead eyes locked onto Fennel’s even through the mask. Familiar, horrifying, and JUMP reacts before Fennel does, launching faerself into the air with jump jets trying to run. To escape. 

But it didn’t work last time, so why would Fennel expect it to now?

Midair the memories hit Fennel like an earthquake hits the ground. Ripping and tearing, opening gorges through the dirt of Fennel’s mind and leaving faer reeling on the edges of what used to be faer most intimate self. 

_ Short shift and open backed with soft shackles around wrists, not that they don’t leave bruises. Needles pressed into skin at the nape of the neck, unworried about the pain, searching for access to the rich fluid of a telepath’s brain stem. Wishing to scream but unable to make any noise, just a doll to be played with. Experimented on.  _

Fennel doesn’t even notice hitting the ground. Crumbled edges of the street dig into faer knees through JUMP’s armor and every muscle in Fennel’s body burns. Not again, never, ever again. Short breaths, lungs filling and emptying rapidly. Rising and falling. 

_ Electricity flowing through veins and blood falling from a nose. Mechanical beeping falls to the background, floating in the space between moments. Voices layered over scribbling notes on clipboards, noise under the ocean. Where? Where am I? Nothing but fire under skin and a screaming emptiness on another side. Dizzying. Crackling skin and popping joints, dripping blood running like tears down cheeks.  _

“Runaway girl, did you really think we forgot about you?”

Their voice threaded through each memory. Hanging at the edge of every nightmare. Too familiar, too heavy to comprehend. Had Fennel really thought fae could ever be free? When monsters like this could follow faer steps silently and strike whenever they wanted?

_ Metal in faer mouth, real and hard against Fennel’s teeth. Just one little motion could end it, end everything. The fear, the pain, the loneliness of living in a city of people Fennel can never be. Isn’t it what fae wanted, an end?  _

Garbled screams filled with static reverberate through Fennel’s ears. It takes a moment before fae realize they’re Fennel’s. Nerves on fire and throat closing around sobs. Whatever shields Fennel thought fae had are shattered beyond recognition. Faer mind flayed and laid out on a platter for all to see. Memories blasted into the minds of everyone near. 

Everyone, except one, Fennel guesses. 

_ “Julia.” Sighed instead of spoken, a gift instead of a curse. Her name falling from an unworthy tongue. Not real, too good to be anything except a dream. Fennel’s experience with touch starts and stops at pain and Julia’s fingers are skating dangerously close to bright orange tattoos inked into falsely human skin. Cuckoo falling for its own deceptive facade.  _

Like feedback on a busted radio Fennel can see through the Ranger’s eyes. Glimpses of faer own form, shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. Hunched like a frightened child. Waves of anger (Herald’s), shock (Steel’s), understanding (Argents), sadness (Steel’s), grief (Herald’s), roll over Fennel’s mind as if they’re nothing more than turbulence in the darkest, deepest part of the ocean. Do they get it now? 

Memories of a spy in a person’s skin. There isn’t a part of Fennel spared from agony, every cell rupturing around the edges, throat raw from screaming and eyes burning with tears. Please just let it be over, please. 

Just let it be over. 

It always would have ended like this. Not a person, just a doll. Nerves crackling with electricity, please. Please! This time will be different, this time the doll will bend and obey and play along. Just, please, please let it be over. 

“Oh, runaway,” A hand on Fennel’s cheek, cold through the mask between their skin. “Was it that hard to realize what you are?” Nails click against plastisteel, a promise of pain. Fennel’s vision is blurry, fuzzy around the edges, but out of the corner of faer eye Fennel can make out the faces of each of the Rangers, differing levels of hate and disgust. Like it should have been from the start. 

But, Fennel’s shredded mind can still pick up the direction of their thoughts. And none of them are aimed at Fennel. No, no they’re all focused on the one who’s held Fennel’s leash since the first day of faer awareness. 

And, for the first time, as Herald’s feet leave the ground and Steel takes a step forward and Argent shakes her shoulders back and Julia,  _ Julia, faer Julia _ , charges forward with a snarl on her lips Fennel feels something like hope.


End file.
